Joslyn had forgotten the lonely and chilling screamlike wail of the coyotes who turned up in Parable now and then, usually in the dark. A shiver went through her, just to think of poor Lucy-Maude out there all alone, practically defenseless, taking her chances with hungry scavengers.
“How long has she been with you?” Martie went on, when Joslyn didn’t say anything.
“A few days,” Joslyn answered.
A broad smile broke across Martie’s plain, likable face. “I’ve never known Carlotta to stay put longer than a day or so, and even then, she’s elusive. Seems to me that she might have chosen to be your cat, exclusively, from here on out.”
Joslyn felt a curious tangle of emotions in that moment. There was hesitancy—her plans for the future were hardly concrete. But there was also relief, because no heartbroken pet owner was out there, searching frantically for his or her lost cat.
Joslyn swallowed, scrambled for a response. “But I probably won’t be staying in Parable too much longer,” she said awkwardly. “I wasn’t really planning on adopting a pet, and I’m pretty sure she’s expecting—”
Martie’s smile faded. “Oh, my,” she said, leaning to probe Lucy-Maude’s belly with gentle fingertips and then nodding. “Sure enough, she’s pregnant.”
“And, like I said, I wasn’t planning to adopt—”
Martie smiled when Joslyn’s words fell away. “We’ll worry about the kittens when the time comes,” she said. “As for your being ready to adopt, well, in some cases it works the other way around, and the pet does the choosing.” She paused, drew a beleaguered breath and let it out again. “I can take Carlotta to the shelter with me if that’s what you want. As always, though, we’ve already got a pretty big backlog of pets in need of homes.”
Joslyn flinched inwardly at the image of Carlotta/Lucy-Maude behind the door of a cage, however humane the surroundings, not to mention all the other cats and dogs and birds in shelters everywhere, waiting.
And waiting.
“I’ll keep her, then,” she said, and a sense of sad exultation swept through her. “Somehow, we’ll make it work, Lucy-Maude and I, come what may.”
Martie gave Joslyn an approving pat on the shoulder and smiled again. “That’s the spirit,” she said. Then, cagily, she added, “Feel free to stop by Paws anytime you want.”
Effervescent on the inside, Joslyn gave a choked little laugh and barely kept herself from rolling her eyes. “Sure,” she said. “And come home with a few more cats? Maybe a dog and a couple of rabbits for good measure?”
Martie laughed, too. “Can’t blame me for trying,” she said. Then her expression changed, and she looked around at Opal’s little space. “It’s odd to be back in this house,” she added. “Never thought it would happen.”
Joslyn had been about to promise to take Lucy-Maude in for shots and a veterinary exam immediately, but Martie’s remark stopped the words in her throat. “You knew Opal?” she asked raggedly, after a moment or two of recovery.
Martie nodded. “We’re good friends,” she replied.
Joslyn caught her breath. “Then you’re in contact with Opal?”
“Oh, sure,” Martie said. “She’s been living in Great Falls for years with her sister-in-law. Got married once, Opal did, but the fellow didn’t live long.”
Joslyn’s heartbeat sped up a little. She opened her mouth, closed it again, unable to speak.
That cagey look was back in Martie’s eyes, but this time, it wasn’t as friendly as before, and recognition gradually dawned right along with it. “You said your name when I came in, but I didn’t register it,” she murmured. “You’re Elliott Rossiter’s stepdaughter. I thought I’d seen you somewhere before.”
Joslyn swallowed hard. Short of apologizing for who she was, which she didn’t intend to do, she didn’t know what to say.
In an instant, though, Martie’s face changed again, and she was once more the friendly, take-charge person who ran the Paws for Reflection animal shelter. She rested a hand on Joslyn’s shoulder, lightly and briefly, and her smile conveyed both sadness and warmth.
“I heard you were back in Parable, but I guess it slipped my mind,” the older woman said. “I’m just so darned busy all the time.”
Joslyn had to ask the question, though she dreaded the answer. “Did Elliott—did he cheat you, too?”
Martie gave a grim little nod of confirmation. “We turned over our life savings to that rascal, Charlie and me,” she replied. “Charlie was my husband at the time. We’d known the Rossiter family forever, Charlie and I, and we never dreamed Elliott wasn’t on the up-and-up. His people were fine, upright folks. Just the same, we lost practically every nickel we had.”
“I’m so sorry,” Joslyn croaked.
“Don’t be,” Martie replied stalwartly. “It wasn’t your fault, it was mine and Charlie’s and Elliott’s. Anyhow, I got a whopper of a check in the mail a few weeks back—even after splitting it with Charlie—we’re divorced now—it’s a pile. Without it, I’d have had to close the shelter by now, most likely, and that would have broken my heart for sure.” A pause. “Seems like everything worked out for the best, in the end.”
Joslyn wondered if she’d ever hear all the stories—each of Elliott’s victims had one, of course—even if she stayed in Parable for the rest of her life.
Not that she had any intention of doing that—she just hadn’t figured out an alternative yet.
“Some good comes out of just about everything, I guess,” Martie said. With that, she shook Joslyn’s hand again and turned to leave the office.
“I’ll take Lucy-Maude in for a checkup as soon as possible,” Joslyn called after her.
“You do that,” Martie replied kindly.
And then she was gone.
Joslyn went to her desk, logged on to Kendra’s computer using the password her friend had given her before she left, and did her best to respond to the various nonpersonal emails that had been collecting in the virtual mailbox. Fortunately, there weren’t many of those, but finding the answers took a while because Kendra hadn’t had time to show Joslyn the ropes.
By midafternoon, she was all over the internet, looking for real-estate classes. Clearly, if she was going to get anything done around here, she needed a license.
She found an online course, vetted it with the state of Montana to make sure the school was legit and signed up.
The first files arrived minutes later via email, and she printed them out to study later after closing time.
* * *
KENDRA CALLED AT A LITTLE after four; she had a two-hour layover in New York, and then she’d be on her way to London. She sounded numb, as though she were reading a prepared speech.
Joslyn ached for her friend. Wished she—or someone—were making the trip with Kendra, lending moral support. “I’ll be here,” she said. “If you need to talk, call me—and don’t worry about what time it is.”
Kendra gave a small, broken-sounding sigh. “Okay,” she said in the same wooden tone, “thanks.”
“Kendra—” Joslyn began, about to suggest that making this trip might not be such a good idea after all and maybe she should just turn right around and come back home, but there was a click on the other end and the connection was broken.
Slowly, Joslyn hung up the receiver and sat perfectly still for a few long moments, worrying about Kendra. After that, she rooted through the bookshelves for procedure manuals and did her best to familiarize herself with the inner workings of Shepherd Real Estate.
There was a lot to take in. Fortunately, she was a quick learner, and always had been.
At five-fifteen, she locked the front entrance, turned out the lamps and made her way through the kitchen to the little apartment that had once been Opal’s.
Lucy-Maude greeted her with a purr that sounded like a lawn mower starting up and weaved her silken body between Joslyn’s ankles.
With a chuckle—and being careful not to trip over the cat’s continuous figure eigh
ts around her feet—Joslyn opened up a cupboard, found the familiar mishmash of dishes Opal had collected over the years, and helped herself to a bowl with a chip on the rim.
She filled it with a mixture of canned cat food and dry kibble, and set it down next to the water dish she’d put out earlier.
Lucy-Maude, tail twitching, ate ravenously. The animal was eating for two, after all—or six or eight.
Joslyn sighed. “You might as well know that it’s a ninety-nine percent certainty that we’ll be moving on one of these days,” she told the cat, who ignored her and continued to eat. “Parable is a nice enough place, if you really belong, but my guess is we’re just passing through, so don’t get too comfortable here.”
Naturally, Lucy-Maude didn’t answer. She didn’t even look up from her food.
When her cell phone jangled in the depths of her purse, Joslyn was glad of the distraction, because the thought of leaving town for good left her feeling strangely bereft.
“Hello?” she said without looking at the caller ID panel first.
“Is that my Jossie girl?” Opal asked, big-voiced and hearty, the way she’d always been.
Tears of joy filled Joslyn’s eyes in the space of an instant. “Opal?” she cried.
“Who else?” Opal retorted good-naturedly.
Joslyn found her way to the easy chair and sank into it, the phone pressed hard against her ear. “Oh, Opal,” she said, as Lucy-Maude finished her supper and began an elaborate grooming ritual. “I can’t believe it’s you.”
“Believe it,” Opal said, sounding gruff now. “My friend Martie called a little while ago, said my name came up in conversation, and from your reaction, she got the idea you might want to talk with me. I called the office right away, but nobody answered, so I tried this number and here we are, yammering away, just like old times.”
A single tear trickled down Joslyn’s right cheek, and she didn’t bother to wipe it away. “How are you, Opal?” she asked, almost whispering the question.
“I’m just fine,” Opal replied, with her usual staunch conviction. “Moving a little slower, maybe, and with a few more aches and pains than before, but for the most part, I’m as sturdy as a plow horse.” She paused, chuckled warmly. “Probably weigh about the same as one, too.”
Joslyn smiled. “That’s good,” she said.
“It’s good that I weigh as much as a plow horse?” Opal joked.
Joslyn laughed, but it came out sounding like a cross between a gulp and a sob. “That you’re fine,” she clarified.
“How about you?” Opal wanted to know. “You doing all right, sweetheart?”
“I’m getting by,” Joslyn said, because she’d never been able to lie to Opal, except by omission. And even that didn’t always work, because Opal was perceptive to an almost preternatural degree.
“Getting by,” Opal repeated, clearly disappointed. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that, girl. You married yet? Got any little ones?”
Joslyn shook her head before remembering that Opal couldn’t see the gesture. “No,” she said. “I haven’t really had time for that.”
“Well, you’d better make time, then, hadn’t you? You’re not getting any younger, you know.”
Joslyn laughed again, but this time, it was genuine. It was a release, like a good sneeze. “Fine,” she agreed cheerfully. “I’ll go out and hog-tie a husband as soon as we hang up. Get pregnant on the honeymoon.”
Opal laughed, too. Was there just a trace of tears in the sound?
“What the Sam Hill are you doing back in Parable?” the older woman asked without further ado.
So much for chitchat.
Joslyn fidgeted. The question had been inevitable, of course. “I’m trying to set some things right, I guess.”
“What sort of things?” Opal asked warily.
Joslyn hesitated long enough to draw in a deep, steadying breath and thrust it out again in the form of a ragged sigh. “You know,” she said finally. “Elliott did so much damage here, Opal. He hurt so many people—”
“And how is that your responsibility?” Opal retorted crisply, but with the old, stalwart caring she’d always shown Joslyn and her mother.
“It’s not,” Joslyn replied, sadly defensive. “But someone needs to make amends, don’t they? If they can, that is?”
“Well,” Opal said, after a few moments of silent rumination, her tone softer now, “in my opinion, you’re way off base, but it’s a gift from God Himself to hear your voice again, just the same.” A pause. “How’s your mama doing these days?”
Joslyn told Opal about Dana’s new life in Santa Fe with her artist husband, Brian.
“That’s mighty good to know,” Opal replied, sounding gratified when Joslyn had finished. “I always liked Dana. Thought she was half again too good for Elliott Rossiter, though she sure enough seemed to love the man.”
“She did,” Joslyn affirmed, thick-throated again as she remembered the happy times before Elliott’s greed took over.
Given that Opal had been working for the Rossiter family long before Joslyn and her mother came on the scene, it was significant that she still regarded Dana so highly. After all, there were people, like Cookie Jean Crown, who thought Elliott stole to keep his wife and stepdaughter living the good life. He’d outfitted Dana in designer clothes and taken her on expensive vacations all over the world, often by chartered jet, and Joslyn had lacked for nothing, either as a little girl or as a teenager. So maybe there was some truth to the idea.
“I’ve got half a mind to come and see you,” Opal announced. “You happen to have a place to put me?”
Again, Joslyn laughed. Again, her eyes stung. “Are you serious, Opal? A visit from you would mean the world to me right now.”
“’Course I’m serious,” Opal said decisively. “You think I’m talking to hear my head rattle? Why, I can hop a bus with no trouble at all. I’ll just throw a few things in that old suitcase of mine, buy me a ticket, and be on my way.” She sounded just like her normal take-charge self. “Does the bus still stop at the service station right there on Main Street, just across from the Butter Biscuit Café?”
“Probably,” Joslyn answered, thinking fast. Opal could stay in the guesthouse, since it wasn’t occupied at the moment. “Wherever it stops, I’ll be there to pick you up. Just let me know when you’ll be arriving.”
“I’ll get right back to you,” Opal said.
Twenty minutes later, she did just that.
It turned out that the bus still came through Parable every afternoon at three-forty-five sharp, and if there were passengers to let off or take on, it made a half-hour stop at the gas station so travelers could stretch their legs or grab a bite to eat over at the Butter Biscuit.
Opal promised to be onboard tomorrow’s bus.
As soon as they’d hung up for a second time, Joslyn speed-dialed her mother’s number in Santa Fe and spilled the news of Opal’s impending arrival like an armload of Mexican jumping beans.
Dana was as delighted as Joslyn had been.
“That’s wonderful, sweetheart,” she said with a throaty laugh. “And may I say, it’s good to hear you sounding, well, happy.”
Joslyn blinked. Didn’t she usually sound happy? Okay, sure, the last few years had been challenging; she’d worked too hard and gotten too lonely, but she hadn’t been unhappy, had she?
She decided to let the remark pass. “Why don’t you join us, Opal and me?” she asked. “Here in Parable, I mean?”
Dana sighed. “Oh, honey, I’d love to see you and Opal, but Brian has a big gallery showing coming up in just two weeks, in Chicago, and we’re both in an absolute frenzy, trying to get everything crated and ready for shipment—”
Joslyn closed her eyes for a moment, opened them again. “Oh,” she said, unable to hide her disappointment.
There was a brief, injured silence on the other end of the line. “You think the show is just an excuse—that I’m afraid to come back to Parable, after all that h
appened, don’t you?” Dana asked gently and without rancor.
“Of course not, Mom,” Joslyn answered just as gently. “I know you’re not a liar.”
Dana let out a long breath. “We can’t afford for Brian to miss this show,” she went on. “He has a handful of dedicated collectors in Chicago, and with the economy the way it is, and art being regarded as a luxury…”
“I understand, Mom,” Joslyn said. And she did. In boom times, Brian could hardly keep up with his commissions—portraits and landscapes were the meat-and-potatoes, colorful abstracts the gravy. These days, that gravy was probably pretty thin.
Dana’s voice brightened. “I’ll come for a visit after Brian’s show,” she said. “Tell Opal I’ve missed her, and I’ll be in touch very soon to plan some kind of get-together for all three of us.”
“Sure,” Joslyn replied.
They chatted a little while longer, and said their goodbyes.
Within half an hour, Joslyn’s stomach was grumbling, reminding her that she’d skipped lunch. She didn’t feel right about raiding Kendra’s freezer and pantry, even though she knew her friend wouldn’t mind in the least, and the few things she’d left in the guesthouse refrigerator held no attraction whatsoever.
She didn’t feel like cooking anyway.
On impulse, Joslyn decided to make a quick run to the Butter Biscuit Café, where she’d eaten with Hutch the day before, and order takeout. She was in the mood for comfort food—something Opal might have made, like fried chicken and mashed potatoes and gravy.
Yikes. Just the thought of all those fat grams made her clothes feel tighter. Still, when was the last time she’d indulged herself this way? Over the past few years, she’d done nothing but work and worry. And her doctor in Phoenix had advised her to put on ten pounds, hadn’t he? She figured this one meal would be good for five.
“I’ll be right back,” she promised Lucy-Maude after filling the cat’s bowl with kibble and refreshing the contents of her water dish at the apartment sink.
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